Earlier this week I spoke at length with the Angry Indian for his radio show. While the discussion was based around the Zapatistas, we also covered topics such as colonialism, indigenous resistance, Palestine and capitalism.
Originally posted on El Enemigo Común.
Last April 30, Miguel Ángel Peralta, a member of the Community Assembly of Eloxochitlán de Flores Magón, Oaxaca, was arrested at his workplace in Mexico City by plainclothes agents without an arrest warrant. He was held incommunicado for 20 hours before being presented at the Tlaxiaco prison in the state of Oaxaca. On the ride down, he was beaten and threatened.
Since 2010, Miguel has struggled alongside other members of the Community Assembly against the imposition of the illegitimate Mayor Manuel Zepeda Cortes, who rejected the council members elected according to traditions and customs and set up his own government, bringing a reign of terror, plunder and injustice to Eloxochitlan.
On August 10 2012, Miguel’s father Pedro Peralta was kidnapped, tortured, seriously wounded and locked up in the Cuicatlán prison, where he is still held as a political prisoner for having struggled against the tyranny of the Zepeda Cortés regime.
Miguel and 34 other comrades are charged with the deaths of two people who died in a confrontation on December 14, 2014, between Assembly members and followers of ex Mayor Manuel Zepeda Cortes in Eloxochitlán. Six comrades received bullet wounds in the fray. Eight of the 34 have been arrested and are now unjustly held in the Ixcotel prison, just outside Oaxaca City. Miguel and two other comrades are being held in a 2 x 2 meter punishment cell in Tlaxiaco. On the 20th day of his imprisonment, he wrote the following letter:
Originally posted on El Enemigo Común.
By Débora Poo Soto
Translated by Scott Campbell
May 15, 2015
For some; everything, their only option, their best chance, a house, a family, is learning:
They give you, what, food, a bedroom – that’s the room to rest in – the three meals, so for me it means: this Normal [teaching college] is everything. Here there is everything, I have everything […]
They teach you to be humble, here they teach you what is…more than anything the humility to talk with the people, to be sensitive, to respect them, since in this normal they teach you what values are, they teach us to live together with the people and also here they really instill in us to work with the people, with poor people, peasants […].*
Means sharing: the sleepless nights, the tears and happiness, the dreams. It brings with it responsibility, a lot of work and effort in order to get here, in order to enter and to stay.
This is the farewell post from my old website, Angry White Kid, and feels like an appropriate first post on this new site.
And I promise to learn to love the way I’ve learned to fear
To unknot all the inhibitions tangled in my hair
To let my ego mound in piles around the barber chair
And make a graceful exit from my vexed and troubled years
– Saul Williams, Sea Lion
I open up Facebook or Twitter and immediately get hit by a battering ram of bad news. My social media feeds are seeing red. Once notifications or messages are tended to, I close the pages almost as quickly as I open them.
Up until a few months ago, I would have been spending much of the day online, tweeting and posting alongside my virtual comrades. Now, I cannot afford to engage in that activity.
There is a reason. For the past two years, I’ve been in an intense struggle to address a life-threatening condition. Something that has very nearly killed me. I’ve tried many different methods of treatment, and feel through much work and assistance I have arrived at an approach that, with vigilance, will hopefully keep the disease in remission.
Part of that approach has to do with me assessing the activities I’m involved in and engaging in those which are more true to myself as I’ve come to understand myself during these past two years.